


Razzle Dazzle

by AU Mer-Maid (neonstardust)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boot Worship, Boots - Freeform, Don't Let The Tags Fool You This Is Safe For Work, Kinktober 2019, Leather, Shopping Date, Shopping Malls, Wholesome Safe For Work Content In My Kinktober? Heck Yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 14:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21076553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonstardust/pseuds/AU%20Mer-Maid
Summary: The mall is a terrible place for dates, or maybe Yahaba is just a terrible boyfriend to take out in public. Shirabu can't decide, but staring at the terrible footwear Yahaba lays out for him to try on, he thinks it may be a little bit of both.





	Razzle Dazzle

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 17 - Prompt: Boot Worship

“Leather.”

“Be practical.”

“_Waterproof_ leather.”

Shirabu spares him an unimpressed look, but before he can walk away, Yahaba grabs his arm, dragging him into the store. “Don’t you ever buy things because you like them?”

“No.” He yanks his arm free. Yahaba’s eyes light up, and Shirabu realizes his mistake too late. “Stop whatever you’re thinking.”

“You”—he drags Shirabu further through the store—“are going to buy something fun.”

“This is a shoe store.”

Yahaba pushes him to sit down on the bench. Kneeling down, he starts to pull Shirabu’s sneakers off, evading Shirabu’s attempts to smack his hands away.

“Shoes can be fun, Kenji.”

“What are you holding?” He glares at the box Yahaba takes from a nearby shelf.

“Nothing.”

“Yahaba.”

Not answering, Yahaba slides a rainbow patterned shoe onto his foot. Shirabu looks from it to Yahaba, waiting for the joke that is sure to follow. “Get it over with,” he sighs.

Lips curving into a mischievous smile, Yahaba puts on his best salesman voice and says, “You’ll be walking on clouds in these bad boys.”

“Can I leave now?”

Yahaba rolls his eyes. “You’re all thunderstorms, Kenji.” He unties the laces with dramatic flair. Gripping the back of Shirabu’s leg, he lifts his foot up and says, “You should try being more sunshine and rainbows.” Shirabu kicks him.

Undiscouraged, Yahaba sets off in search of more abominable footwear. Shirabu leans back on his hands. This was not how he had planned for their trip to the mall to go, but it could be worse, he supposes. Yahaba hasn’t fallen into a fountain yet, and security hasn’t forcefully removed them from the building. It’s a good start.

A towering pile of boxes wobbles its way towards him, propelled onwards by Yahaba’s lanky legs, and Shirabu regrets allowing himself to be hopeful.

“These”—he drops the boxes and pulls out a pair of thick heeled boots—“are real imitation leather.”

Shirabu kicks them out of his hands. “That’s an oxymoron, and you are a weird moron.”

“Imitation leather has all the sex appeal of real leather without the animal cruelty.” Setting the boots neatly back inside their box, he pulls out a pair of Vans.

“I’m asexual,” Shirabu reminds him, but his words fall on deaf ears as Yahaba slips the shoe onto his foot. They fit well enough. Tilting his leg to the side, he makes out a purple and black pattern along the side, overshadows by a brilliant moon. His eyes widen. “Are these…”

“Nightmare before Christmas themed Vans? Yes, yes they are.” Yahaba gives a smug nod of approval. “Well? What do you think?” Leaning forward, he bites his lip, waiting for an answer.

Shirabu looks away. “They’re okay.”

“You love them,” Yahaba singsongs. He grabs Shirabu’s hands. “Admit it.”

“Can we leave now?” Shirabu asks instead. Yahaba is leaning closer and closer, making it hard to think. The shoes don’t help either. The intricate details hidden in the design make it harder to deny that they’re the coolest things he’s ever seen.

Yahaba works slow, gentle, uniting the laces and sliding the shoe off as if it were made of glass. He makes sure each shoe fits properly without forcing it on. The delicate touch puts Shirabu at ease. Too late, he realizes he stopped paying attention to what Yahaba is putting on him.

“No.”

“Please,” Yahaba whines. Pinching the zipper between his fingers, he slides it over Shirabu’s ankle, traveling up his calf, and he smooths his hand along Shirabu’s knee.

“No,” Shirabu repeats. He glares down at the boots. They’re too tall. They fit nicely, neither tight nor loose, nestled snuggly above his skinny jeans, but his feet wobble as if the heels are an inch bigger than he’s used to.

“These match with everything,” Yahaba insists. “The soles get good traction, and, and think of all the people you can kick.”

“I’m going to kick you.”

“And…” Standing, Yahaba leans in close to whisper, “They’ll make you taller.”

Shirabu glares, eyes narrowing further as a smug smile takes over Yahaba’s face. “If you go for the lower heels,” Yahaba says, waving a boot tauntingly, “they’ll still make you taller than me.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

Annoyed, Shirabu accepts the lower heeled boot, pretending that Yahaba’s little victory cheer doesn’t make his chest explode with warmth. “You’re buying me caramel after this.”

Yahaba kisses his knee where faux leather meets skin. “Anything you like.”

Looking away, Shirabu mumbles, “I like you.”


End file.
